


Scarred Body, Tortured Mind

by BobTheTurtle



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Ahhhhhhhh, Anorexia, Author doesn't update on time, BTW the anorexia thing doesn't last long at all, Canon-Typical Violence, DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN ADD TAGS WITHOUT THEM BEING PRE-DETERMINED?!?!, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Dom Wade, Eventual Smut, FUCK, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I just love them a lot, I wouldn't count on that..., Language, Lemme tell ya, M/M, Masturbation, My First Smut, NICKNAMESSSS, Poor Peter, Possible rimming????, Rating May Change, Sub Peter, Such a bitch, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, THE MORE YOU KNOOOOOW, Tags Are Hard, Tags will definitely be added as time goes on, That's what this string of added tags is btw, Wade Has Issues, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Warnings May Change, You add a comma after you type it in, also, just thought you should know, like seriously, so sorry if it's crap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobTheTurtle/pseuds/BobTheTurtle
Summary: Wade was living life, when all of a sudden, the Avengers decide they're sick of Wade's shit, and want him to change. And all because he passed out after a fight from a temporary eating disorder!Or, when Wade lives at the tower while they try to fix him, with some visits from Spidey. Trigger warning for anorexia. Don't worry, it doesn't last very long.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [White]
> 
> (Yellow)

(BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.)

He groaned, swiping at his alarm. "Five more minutes, ma." 

Wade hated mornings. With a fiery passion. He barely got any sleep anyway, with the pain of regeneration, and the low hum of cancer in his ears. And in between all the pain and distractions, the boxes talked his ear off, topics ranging from the weather to how to enter the fifth dimension using two potatoes, a goat, and Channing Tatum. There was nothing more he wanted to do now, than shove that stupid alarm right up-

Wait. Alarm?

Wade sat up. He owned no alarm. 

(Surprise!!!!)

Oh god.

[Gotta admit, I'm surprised. Didn't think he'd be that stupid to fall for it.]

Wade sighed, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, still not quite ready to rise, but entertaining the notion.

(That's the thing, old man. You can't underestimate the pure stupidity of dear Pooly. WAIT!!! THIS MEANS YOU OWE ME TWENTY BUCKS!!! WOOOOO-HOO!!!)

[Okay. One, I never agreed to pay you twenty bucks if you pulled it off. Two, we have no physical forms, so therefore have literally no use for money. Three, dear god you are too loud, I will punch you if you don't shut THE FUCK UP. And four, when have I ever been an old man?]

As they bickered on, Deadpool was still sat over the side of the bed, head bowed, trying to debate getting up over the noise. 

Finally, he stood, and a wave of nausea and dizziness followed. He fell back into his original spot.

(Woah,) Yellow said, effectively ending the debate he and White were having about their actual ages. (What was that?)

[That was Vertigo, happens from a bunch of things. This, however, most likely came from our lacking of nutrients, or food, in simpler terms, for your weak little mind.] explained White.

(Why don't we have food? Food is tasty. Wait, DID YOU CALL ME-) 

[Welllll, our dearest old Wade has been starving himself lately.]

(But whyyyyy?)

[Don't ask me. I'm not the one in charge.]

There was a pause, where the boxes obviously were waiting for input from Wade. He remained silent, taking the time to stand again, slower this time, and head to the door. 

(Okaaaayyy.)

[That was just cold, Pooly. What ever could be the matter?]

Wade remained silent still, opening the door to the living room. He plopped on the couch, turning on the TV. The news played footage of the weather, and the smoking hot woman explaining all the symbols and arrows. 

(Whiiiite. He's not talking to us usss.)

[The fuck you want me to do about it?]

(I don't knowww. But I'm borrrred.)

Silence followed a little after. Wade felt the inkings of hope stir him. They were quickly stamped out.

(Why do you think he's being so mean?) 

[Could be a multitude of things. Could be cause he's tired, could be cause he feels like it,] Wade felt sweat on his neck. He knows. Of course he knows, he's the smart one. Oh no, he's gonna say it, then he's gonna beat Wade down again, no, he can't deal with another one, not so soon after the last time, he just can't. [Or maybe,] White chuckled in the dark depths of his mind. [Maybe he's trying to FIX us.]

(SPIDEY!!!) Yellow squealed with the force of a thousand teenage girls.

[What? Where?]

Wade looked around, anything to distract White from the previous subject. Besides, he liked Spidey, he was one of the few heroes who didn't treat him like pure horse shit. 

There! On the TV. He was fighting a bunch of robbers. He was twisting, turning, spinning through the hoodlums like they were butter and he was a hot knife. Still, Wade stared like a hawk at the screen, noting any faults in his attacks, any injuries he saw, and how skinny he was. 

Wade had found out how young Spidey was. He was a merc for a reason, and if he couldn't figure out how young someone was in a glance, even with a full body suit, he didn't deserve the title. Plus, Spidey didn't exactly make it hard to tell, with the height, and the weight. 

[You need to quit obsessing over him.]

(Yeah! It's super creepy!)

"No it's not." Wade huffed. His throat hurt from talking, since he hadn't done it in a while. Another expirement at getting rid of the boxes. He hasn't left his shitty apartment in a week, and was going a bit stir-crazy, but it would be worth it in the end.

[Oh, talking to us now, are we?] White chuckled.

"Stick a dick in it, wouldya?" Wade grumbled. 

(Aw, Wadey! Don't be like that!)

[Don't worry, Yellow. He's only mad cause he knows he's a creepy stalker who can't mind his own business.]

"Look who's talking, scumbag." Wade snarled.

[Oh yeah? Did I go prying into someone's business? Did I find out someone's age by examining their BODY? You know that shit ain't yours, and never will be. Why the fuck you looking at it, freak? ESPECIALLY if it's someone who's possibly underage?]

"Listen here you disrespectful son of a bitch-" He was cut off by the sudden alarming tone of the reporter. He removed his nails digging into the fabric of his suit at his head. Huh, he didn't even realize he was doing that.

He looked up and stood at the sight that greeted him. It was Spidey, but he was injured. A cut, on his right side, by his ribcage. Nothing, as long as it was treated properly. And seeing as Spidey was young, and therefore inexperienced...

"Fuck." Wade said, before gathering his weapons. Nothing huge, just the basics. He ran out of his apartment, in his suit and ready to kick some ass. He raced down the stairs to street level.

(Operation Save Spidey is a go!) 

[This is a terrible idea.]

"No one gives a flying fladoodle fuck, White." Wade said, before bursting out onto the street.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't pan out quite the way Wade expected them to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter was posted the day after this work came out. Just wanna say this won't be something that happens with this story. I'm just excited to write this and see where it takes me. Actually, I'm the worst procrastinator. 
> 
> That's another good point, if you guys see I haven't posted in months, please feel free to yell at me until I post something.

Wade burst out into the street. He ignored the stares of the pedestrians as he looked left and right, begging for a glimpse of red and blue. 

Yellow giggled. (He won't be on the GROUND, silly!) 

White scoffed [Moron. Even if you found him, you wouldn't be able to keep up with his swinging.]

Shit. He clutched his head, thinking hard. Where could Spidey be?! 

WAIT. He couldn't have left the crime scene yet. He always did like to make sure everybody was okay afterwards, and help out the cops in any way possible. 

Wade sprinted to the crime scene. It was a bank that he had killed the owner of not so long ago. 

When he got there, he felt bile in the back of his throat. All that running was a terrible idea. He dry-heaved once, and shook his head to hopefully clear up the nausea. Needless to say, it definitely didn't help. He was now extremely dizzy.

The boxes laughing in his head certainly weren't helpful either.

"Deadpool?" He heard a voice say. He looked up. 

(SPIDEY!!!!!)

[Ugh.]

"Hey honeycakes, how's it shakin'?" Wade put on an award-winning huge grin on his face. He stood up straight from his position of being bent over with his hands braced on his knees. 

"Uhh what are you doing here? And are you okay?" Spidey had a note of concern in his voice. Oh no. That was no good. 

"Never better, now that you're here, baby boy!" He bounced around excitedly before a wave of dizziness hit him. He stopped abruptly. 

"Deadpool," he stared at Wade with what he could tell was a bullshit-tackling gaze. "I know you're lying." 

"What? What possible reason would I have for lying about me not being okay? Besides, what does 'okay' even MEAN? Does it mean physically (which I always am, by the way), mentally (which I always am not, by the way), or emotionally (never with you around, sweet-cheeks). You need to be specific when you talk, baby boy, otherwise people will never understand what you're saying. Can you imagine? Just, whenever you talk, people always asking what you mean all the time, be mighty annoying, if you ask me. Are you asking me? I get the feeling you should, cause I'm actually pretty smart, you know, cause I know I put on a good show, but-" 

"DEADPOOL!" Spidey yelled. "I get the gist. That answers one question, but not the other." He looked at him expectantly.

"Uhh...," He replied smartly. "What was the question again?"

Spidey sighed. "Why are you here?" 

"Um, well, you see, there was this thing you know, on the news, uhh...," He couldn't exactly tell him why he came here, right? He'd be so creeped out, then he would never see him again. God, that sounded clingy. Still, though, he really enjoyed the Spider's company. Distraction time! "Is that a cut?"

Spidey looked down at his right side. "Oh, that? It's nothing. Now continue what you were saying."

Deadpool shook his his finger side to side, clicking his tongue with each movement. "POTENTIALLY nothing. So long as it gets proper treatment for infections and shit, it should be fine. So, as a productive citizen of society, it is my job to take care of it to make sure that no further harm comes to you."

"Deadpool,-" he was cut off by Deadpool picking him up. He spueeked on his way up, and Deadpool let out a chuckle. "DEADPOOL, PUT ME DOWN!" 

"Nope." Deadpool said, popping the 'p'. 

And so he set off for his apartment, with Spidey, squirming and yelling, in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, since it's so soon after the last. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool brings Spiderman to his disgusting apartment,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should have probably mentioned that Wade and Peter don't know eachother's names or faces. Oh well.

Wade kicked open the door to his apartment, Sparta Style. He instantly got a head rush. Usually, he acted a lot different when he was outside of his apartment, as opposed to when he was inside. That's cause he FELT different. His apartment was his fortress of solitude, his time to kick back his feet, watch some Golden Girls, and blow his brains out a little.

[Liar.] 

Okay, a lot. But, when he was outside? He was a total badass. He could hit a target through a scope from up to a mile away. It's true! He tried it once!

[You hit their foot.]

(He was aiming for their head!) Yellow giggled. 

Now they were just getting off-track. Point was, if he needed a minute to gather himself after stepping through the threshold, then who could blame him? 

Spidey cut off his grumbling. "Deadpool? You okay?" 

"There we go again with the 'okay'. 'Course I'm okay, Spidey! Ya think you would get the point by now, I mean, yeesh. Maybe you need a reminder. I'm ALWAYS okay. Healing factor may be a bitch, but it is good for one thing. HEALING. Ergo, I'm always okay, cause I'm always in a healthy bod. Then again there's the- ahem, anywho..." He trailed off. As he was talking, he had been doing various things. First he had laid Spidey gingerly on the couch, careful not to disturb his cut. Then he searched wildly around his apartment, looking for medical supplies. Eventually, he had found the medical kit he used regularly before his life went to shit. And last, but not least, he knelt in front of the couch and Spidey, focusing on the cut with such intensity, it was a miracle it didn't burst into flames. 

[That would certainly not aid in cleaning the cut at all.]

(Isn't fire clean?)

[Sure, but then we'd have to clean all the charred bits up, and that's never fun.]

"Shhhh." Wade said.

"I didn't say anything." 

"Hushhhh." He lifted a finger to his lips, not looking away from the cut.

Spidey huffed, but said nothing more. Instead he watched as Deadpool opened a bottle of alcohol. He looked up at Spidey. "This is going to hurt like a motherfucker, so I'm going to hold you down, so you don't disturb the cut."

Spidey took a deep breath and nodded. Wade looked back down at the cut, and poured the alcohol over it. His hand whipped out to press against Spidey's chest, effectively pinning him to the couch. Spidey tensed up and tried to throw Wade off the best as he could. Then, just as quickly, he stopped and sagged back against the couch.

"You took that surprisingly well, web-head." Wade commented, going back to anti-bactirialize it.

"Isn't the first time I've dealt with a cut like this." 

Wade froze. Oh. The boxes cackled in the back of his head. 

[You done fucked up!]

The whole reason he went to find Spidey was because he didn't want to have him have to go to the hospital from improper treatment. Then they would've taken his mask. Wade was such an idiot! He didn't think! Spidey's been doing this stuff for years! Wade's seen him come back from much worse than this!

"Deadpool!" 

"Huh? What?" He snapped out of his inner turmoil.

"What is going on with you?" Spidey asked, obviously annoyed. "The TRUTH this time." 

Wade opened and shut his mouth multiple times. (Like a goldfish!) What could he say? 'Hey Spidey I'm actually really worried about you, since you young and all. How do I know that? Well, you see, I've actually examined your body in order to figure out your age, not on purpose, though!'

"You don't need to worry about me, Spidey. All good in da hood!" He flashed a huge smile that he knew would show through the mask, and quickly focused on his work again, quickly. 

"Obviously not. You're keeled over at the crime scene, taking me to your house, and being silent. You're never silent! C'mon, man, please just tell me." 

"I'm worried about you, okay!?"

Spidey visibly leaned back in surprise. "What?" 

"I found out about your age!"

"You WHAT!?"

"Not on purpose!" He paused. "Okay, kinda on purpose, I was curious. I only know an estimate, though, I swear!" He said when Spidey tried to get up. 

"What else do you know?" 

"Nothing. Besides the fact that you have an astonishingly glorious ass for someone your age." 

"Okay." Spidey breathed a sigh of relief. "How old do you think I am?" 

"Roughly? Sixteen." 

"You're off by two years. Close, though." 

"YOU'RE FOURTEEN!?" 

"No! No no no." Spidey chuckled. "Eighteen. I'm in college." 

"Oh, okay. You're short for your age."

"Hey! Shut up!"

It was Wade's turn to chuckle. Thank whoever was up there for that. Wait...

"You've been doing this for three years, though." Wade looked up from his work.

"Yeah."

"You STARTED at FIFTEEN?!" 

"Yeah."

"Shit." Wade shook his head. "Life's a bitch."

Spidey laughed. "I hear that."

They sat in peaceful silence as Wade finished up. When he did, he stood, and offered the hero a hand up. He took it.

Wade smiled and stretched. He turned and walked to the door, gesturing for Spidey to follow. He did, after a moment's hesitation. 

"C'mon. I'll walk you outside." Wade turned and opened the door, stepping into the hallway.

The ride down was silent, except for Wade humming a song that he couldn't remember the name of. When they got to the main doors, they stopped. 

"Well...," Wade drifted.

"Thank you for patching me up." Spidey said.

Wade laughed. "I only did it cause I was worried you didn't know the difference between a needle and a band-aid."

"Still." Spidey said kindly.

"Ah, well. Anytime, then." Wade grinned. 

"See you around, Deadpool." And then he was gone, out the door, and up in the air. 

(Like an angel!) Yellow sighed dreamily.

[Or a fly.]

"I'll have you know our Spidey is an ARACHNID."

[Our?]

(He's of age!) 

"Yellow's not wrong!" Wade grinned. 

[For once.]

(Hey! I take offense to that!)

"You were supposed to, Yellow." Wade said, then head back up to his dingy apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

Wade walked back into his room and sighed, thinking back on the day's events. It was so strange to be in his apartment with Spidey. Having an element of the outside world in the place where all of his deepest and darkest thoughts were was an incredibly strange experience. 

(An incredibly Doctor Strange experience.)

[That was an incredibly lame pun, that had no humor in it.]

(Now people can tell the author's American!)

[What?]

(I thought you were supposed to be the smart one! British people spell humor with a 'u' in it.)

Wade sighed at the banter in his head. He really just wanted to relax. Homes were supposed to be relaxing, right? He really had no idea, since hasn't had any real experience on the matter. 

(Daddy Issues!!!) Yellow exclaimed, effectively cutting off his argument with White about who the smart one was.

[Oh god, not this again. Not only is it brought up too much with Wade, but in usual media too. Don't you think the readers would rather be spared the paragraphs of text just describing what they already know?]

(Doesn't it give backup info on the Wadey-Poo in this universe?)

[One- never say Wadey-Poo again. Two- I'm sure it'll come up some time later for maximum angst-levels.]

(But wouldn't it be better if it it happened now?)

[How on Earth did you reach that with your dull mind?]

(Well you see...) And off he went on a tangent that would only make sense to him, and give the rest of us headaches. 

Wade sighed for the second time. Why couldn't he have a normal-ass life? Like one of those white-picket fence, apple pie, Honey-I'm-home type things? His life was so shit. He couldn't even spend time at home without boxes messing his mind up. Maybe it was something he was doing. Like, behavior-wise. He already tried not talking to them, which went to hell, and he was already trying to starve himself. What about something new? What if he tried doing something typically done in those white-picket fence, apple pie, Honey-I'm-home type lives? But what?

"That's it, I'm baking a fucking pie." Wade said, heading to the kitchen.

(Huh?) Good, he cut off Yellow's ranting.

[That's the most idiotic "That's it!" moment ever.]

He ignored them, praying that he had supplies in the fridge for a pie. He opened the fridge, seeing bags of takeout, mostly Mexican, old/rotten groceries that he never really got around to using, bits of junk food, and a random loaf of bread.

[You're going to make a pie out of THAT?] 

(I think he can do it! Go, Wadey, go!)

[Ha! Good luck with that, Freddy Kruger, be sure to text me the details after we die of food poisoning.]

(Hey, be nice! It's not like you can make one!)

White scoffed, but said nothing more.

"Alright, men," Wade said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get baking!"

~•~

"It's shit." Wade said, an hour later.

Before him, lay a monstrosity. It was a bunch of taco meat, dumplings, and various other take-out idems, inside a loaf of bread with the center gouged out, with ketchup and mustard drizzled over it in a criss-cross pattern.

[You can't even make a fucking pie!] Mocked White, in disbelief.

(Why didn't we go to the store to get a pie again?)

[Oh, I can tell you that. That's cause the moron who's head we have the displeasure of living in decided, "Hey, I'm going to make a fucking pie!". Because we ALL know that's the one imediate problem that Wade needs to get to first. And he decided to MAKE one instead of buy one, because he's too fucking disgusting to be able to look at, much less deal with.]

"Oh, shut up." Wade scowls at empty air.

[Your even too stupid to come up with a decent come-back!]

(It was kinda lame.)

"WHAT?! You're AGREEING with him?!"

[See,] White chuckled lowly. [Even the ones you think will always have your back turn against you, you piece of filthy trash.]

"Now, Whitey, your just grasping at straws." Wade smirked.

[Oh, am I? Tell me, who do we have that we can laugh with? Who do we have that would let us even TOUCH them? Who would we let touch us?]

(No one!) 

[That's right. So, Wade. When you say I'm grasping at straws? Just know that you always give away another piece of evidence that just proves my point, time and time again.]

"Just shut up!" Wade yelled, stomping to the trash, throwing the "pie" out, plate and all.

(You can't tell us what to do!)

[Always acting all high and mighty, being loud and obnoxious. Not even SPIDERMAN wants to deal with you!]

"Wrong! He came here today!"

(Didn't you carry him?)

[Against his will, too.] White scoffed. [That's when you know you deserve death. When you kidnap people.]

"Fuck off!" Wade shouted desperately, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

[You might as well dig your own grave. No one else would want to waste the effort, considering how disgusting you are, inside and out.]

(Can we just die now? Life's starting to get old. I'm bored.)

Wade looked towards his bathroom, where he usually did the deed. It might be worth it, just to get them to stop. Besides, uninterrupted bliss was sounding real pleasant right about now.

[You certainly deserve death, so you might as well get it done and over with.]

(Yeah! I wanna die again!)

[Too bad that you don't even have the decency to stay dead, but at least the world won't have to deal with your presence for a short while.] White reasoned to him.

Wade sighed. Maybe it was time. He hasn't seen the other side for a while now, so he might as well. Besides, who was he hurting? 

He got up and took long strides to the white room. The mirror was busted up, something he did right after coming back from Weapon X. There was also the little splotches of pink and red everywhere, from blowing his brains out. He always cleaned after dying and coming back, but after you did something so many times in the same place, it was bound to be stained. He stood a second.

(Come ooon. I'm so boooored.) Yellow whined.

[What are you waiting for, asshole, get it done already.]

(How should we die this time?)

[Make it last.] White snarled. [It's the LEAST you could do.]

Why not mix it up a bit? Wade opened the drawer, rustling inside for something to use. He bypassed the familiar feel of the gun to find the less familiar razor blade. He brought it out, studying it a bit. Dried flecks of blood rested on the sharp edge, giving it a sinister feel. Nevertheless, it also gave him a pleasant feeling, like it was the escape hatch to life. 

He lowered to the floor, laying down on his back, staring up at the light in the ceiling. He raised his arm to his view, and set to work. He avoided the major arteries for now, focusing on the smaller veins.he drew lines and curves, zig-zags and spirals. Occasionally he threw in words, mostly names. Things like 'WADE', 'WHITE', and 'YELLOW'. He didn't really have anyone else. After a moment of thought, he wrote 'SPIDEY'.

(Whaddya think he's doing right now?)

[Probably not thinking about us, that's for damn sure.] 

(Well I dunno, he might be.)

[What?]

(Well, there's always the off-chance.) 

[No one as good as that would think about us in their free time.]

Slowly, their conversation quieted to a dull roar, then a mild murmuring. Soon, it was but a whisper in the resesses of his mind. Then for a second. Just a second before everything went to black, and faded to wonderful nothingness, there was silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I didn't update yesterday or last weekend, life has been bringing me down, lately. That with the procrastination that haunts me forever, it's been hard to get my mind focused on working.
> 
> This one probably won't be so good, the reason stated above. Sorry, guys, I really hope you like it. 
> 
> The beginning was inspired by a Spideypool fic on this site, I forget the name or the author, but it's really good, if memory serves. If you recognize it, point it out in the comments! Then I'll credit it to the author, whomever they may be.

~Peter~

Peter groaned as he sat up from the rubble that was perhaps once a conference table. That was decidedly not enjoyable. 

He had been fighting some DoomBots (what else is new?) like he usually does. With the webs, awesome made-up moves, and slightly questionable B.O., and all was well. Then, along came an evil news helicopter that wanted some good close-up shots. Our hero was about to face-plant into the side! Oh, the horror! But, the righteous Spider-man quickly webbed the side of a skyscraper, to the far left of the well-meaning, yet incredibly-annoying helicopter, and went hurdling in that direction instead. Our hero smashed through the window, onto the aforementioned table, and was now grumbling and pulling splinters of wood out of himself, while the helicopter hovered outside the window, no doubt taking pictures of his shame. 

He got up after the majority of splinters were pulled from his person, and walked to the window. He barely resisted the urge to flip the helicopter off, instead jumping out, and swinging back towards the action. It appears as if some Avengers have shown up to help. 

"Yo!" he shouted out to Hawkeye as he landed on his roof. "The heck are you guys doing here? This is nothing!"

"Two reasons." the archer answered, not taking his eye from where his bow was pointed. "One, we were bored. Two, like you're doing the damage against these assholes. Saw that little incident over there with the chopper. Not your best moment, eh? Also, how the fuck did you see me?" this time, he glanced at him incredulously. 

Enhanced hearing had a lot more effects than one would think. For one, he could hear heartbeats when he had adrenaline rushing through him. Most of the time it was bothersome, leaving him balled up under his bed sheets, hand over ears and teeth grinding against the deafening sounds of New York City. Other times, like this, he could pick out how unusually steady a heartbeat nearby was, and deduce that someone who's been through this a lot is over there. From there, he can find them and get some answers.

"Language!" Peter gasped, feigning a scandalized pose. "What would the Captain think!?"

"Ha-ha. Hilarious, I'm sure." Hawkeye acted bland, but his mouth was twitching.

"Oh you know 'lil ol' me." Peter gestured, backing away. "Always the kidder!" he jumped off the building, swinging his way back to the action. 

He heard a chuckle as he left, smiling to himself smugly.

"FOR NARNIA!!!!!" 

What the-

Deadpool was slashing his way through the ranks of bots. He was whooping and hollering as he twirled about, in an almost graceful display of savagery. The little hunks of metal had no chance, with the obvious skill being displayed. He was calling out points as he got head shots, and when he killed multiple bots in a row in a single sword stroke. Soon he got bored and pulled out rope. Just as Peter was about to question his methods, he tied two struggling bots together, holding them to the ground. They struggled, and tried to shoot him, but he ripped off the gun/arm things on them, so it was a useless endeavor. Then, he climbed on top. "AND ASLANNNNN!!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, sheathing his katanas, and pulling out two pistols before opening fire on the shrieking robots. The robot's combined artificial strength lifted Deadpool up in the air. The system was crude, and sure not to last long, but it WORKED.

And there Peter was, stuck to the side of some high-rise building, doing jack.

He cursed to himself as he realized this, quickly webbing down to meet up with the mercenary.

Deadpool was still shooting potshots at the scattering bots. Peter would be nervous, but his Spidey-Senses were there to pick up on the slack if need be, and Deadpool wouldn't be aiming at Peter. Right?

Before he could decide if talking to the probably-insane, armed, skilled mercenary while he was fighting was a good idea, Deadpool turned his head. "Hey, baby boy! What's crack-a-lacking, cuddle cakes?"

The way Deadpool was sitting, was with the bots tied together, and him sitting in between them, the only thing saving him from falling to his death was the crudely tied rope. Despite this, Peter landed behind him, gripping the ropes with more strength than he would admit to later. "We have talked about the nicknames, Deadpool." Peter replied, exhausted.

"Hm? What was that, bugbear? Couldn't hear you over how beautiful your butt looks today, pickle pie!" He reached behind him and pinched Peter's cheek, which was almost as red as the fabric covering it.

"Wh-Wh-Deadpool!" Peter huffed, certainly not in a childish way, though. No. It is perfectly mature to huff at the occasional moment of annoyance. This was a very mature huff.

Hey, at least Deadpool was back to normal now. Last time they met, there was something he couldn't pin down about his behavior. Now, the usual obvious flirting and come-ons have returned, and Peter is right back to impersonating a stuttering tomato. And to think he almost missed the merc's behavior.

Soon enough, all the bots were dead, some Avenger had hunted down the machine controlling them (minus it's operator, as per usual), and the two red-costumed idiots were stuck in the middle of the air, floating on the backs of two forlornly-puttering DoomBots.

"Sooo..." Deadpool drawled. He looked behind him. Peter stared right back at him. "Nice weather we're having?"

Before he could even have a fathom of a thought as to what to say to that, his Spidey-Senses flared. He looked around, waiting for an attack. Then, the rope finally snapped and they plummeted. 

He needed to act fast. He grabbed Deadpool (wait, why was he so sweaty?), and webbed a building up high to swing from their fall. When he got close enough to a smaller building below them, he let go of both the web and Deadpool, trusting him to be able to land standing. 

He was wrong. Deadpool rolled a few times, then landed on his back. Peter ran over, calling out apologies. The strange thing was, for some reason, he wasn't standing back up. 

"Hey." he came up next to Deadpool and crouched. He wasn't knocked out or dead, that was for sure. "Hey, man. You good?" 

"W-Where am I?" Was he...nervous? That threw Peter for a loop. Why would he be nervous? That made no sense. And how did he not know where he was?

Deadpool shivered. Okay, it's a sunny day, and it's impossible for him to get sick. Why was he shivering? He could hear his heartbeat, too, and it was like it was training for a mile.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, worry making it's way into his voice. 

"What's going on?" yelled a new, robotic voice. It was Iron Man, toting Captain America. Peter would find that funny if he wasn't so confused. They landed, and Iron Man flipped up his face-plate to reveal Tony Stark. 

"He has shivers, sweatiness, rapid heart-beat, and for some reason he's really confused." Peter listed off as the Captain kneeled next to the mercenary. 

"Wha-I-you..." Deadpool's eyebrows were so scrunched, you could see them through his leather mask.

"It's okay, son." Cap's voice was reassuring, so much so that even Peter relaxed, but apparently Wade didn't register that part.

His confusion melted to irritation. "Not your son."

What?

"I-I know, I was just-"

"Hey, for someone named the Merc With the Mouth, don't seem like now's the time to be mouthing off." Tony glared at him. "Especially since everyone here could kick your ass, so you better watch your tongue."

Deadpool stumbled to his feet, but quickly nearly fell back down again, if it wasn't for Cap beside him. 

"In your dreams, asshole." Deadpool spat, composure turning into deadly, cold, seriousness. It was so different from how he usually saw him, it was like a slap. "I already have plans in place for when I'm gonna rip your beloved life apart."

"What's happening?" We all turned (in Deadpool's case, with the assistance of Cap) to see Hawkeye and Black Widow coming up, side by side.

"Has shivering, clamminess, rapid heart-beat, confusion, and now irritation, and clumsiness." Peter counted off his fingers.

"Hypoglycemia would be my guess." Hawkeye said as Widow narrowed a sharp gaze to Deadpool.

"Listen, man, I'm fine, can I go?" Deadpool said, suddenly nervous again.

"No," Widow ordered, walking up to him, looking him in the eye as he shifted uncomfortably. "He's coming in."

"What?!" everyone except Hawkeye echoed.

"Nuh-uh. No way, dude, secret organizations ain't really my jam. No, no no. That's fine, really." he yawned. "I feel all better, ya see? Look!" he tried to shrug Cap off, but he didn't budge. 

"It doesn't matter whether or not you want to." she said, and he froze. "You'll pass out soon, anyway."

"What? No, I'm good." Contrary to his words, his heart was slowing, and his words slurred. He could see Cap slowly starting to support all his weight.

"Sleep tight." she whispered to him as his head went slack.

"Y'know, you can be really fucking freaky when you wanna be, Nat." Tony said, looking at her strangely.

"It's in the job description." she said, not looking at him, but the quinjet that landed on the roof next to them. "Coming?" she turned to Peter.

He sighed. "Might as well. He knows me best out of all of us, so I should." He took Deadpool from Cap, moving Deadpool's arm over his shoulder, and supporting him at the hip. Cap gave him a thankful gaze, then headed to the jet. When he turned back to Widow, she was already headed that way too.

He looked left to where Deadpool's head lolled. He sighed.

What is with this strange man?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out better than I hoped. This is the first time I'm writing from a computer, and not a phone. I didn't realize how little I've typed in past chapters! I am SO sorry! Haha!
> 
> Exciting things have happened! Yay, plot! Also, Petey POV! Let me know if you like the idea of that or if you'd rather it stay in Wade POV from now on.
> 
> It turns out writing really brightened my mood! :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WELL WOULDYA LOOKIE HERE, IT'S ANOTHER CHAPTER
> 
> "HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOU'RE FACE HERE!"
> 
> I know, I know, I'm a no-good asshole who doesn't update on time. In my defense, though, I wrote the second half of this chapter and it got deleted. -_-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah fuck, now I gotta decide what POV I'm going into. FUCK, BOTH ARE GOOD. Ah, jeez, WHICH IS BETTER?! UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. UMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. BATHROOM BREAK!
> 
> Okay, during my break, I decided Wade would be best. Also, in other news, Instead of (this) for Yellow, I'll be using {this}. Just flows better when I type, and if I need to use parenthesis for inner-monologue I can.

Everything was blurry. He could hear in the distance a heart monitor. Heart monitor. Doctors. Hospital. Needles. Syringes. Medicine. Blood. Torture. Gasping. PAIN. 

"Woah, hey, buddy, you're good!" he heard a voice yell as he started thrashing, ripping I.V.s out of his arm. Arms held him down as he threw sheets off of himself. He was genetically enhanced, but apparently so was this person, because they had no problem pinning him to the bed in his abandon. That would be a setback. Nothing too difficult, though. No weapons. Will have to act fast, as soon as he got free. He glanced around the room. A window. Good, an escape route. But, how high. Hopefully, it's a short enough height to heal in time to get away. He caught sight of the arms pinning him. They were covered in Spidey's suit. Wait, what? 

"Hey, man, listen! You're fine," Spiderman affirmed. "Everything's fine. You're fine, I'm fine, we're all fine in this grand, old FINE world. You got me? Yeah, okay. You good? Yeah, you're good. I'm gonna let you go now, yeah? That's sound like something we can do?" 

"Uh, sure. Yeah." Wade responded.

"Good." he leaned back up, releasing his arms from around his waist. "Awesome." 

"Uh, where are we?" Wade wondered. 

{Ooh alliteration!} Yellow interrupted. Wade inwardly sighed. 

[Did you miss us?] Cooed White. 

{Oh, did you, Wadey? Didya? Didya?} 

"Stark Tower. Avengers brought us here." Spidey offered, leaning back in his seat. He was the only one here. 

[You are JUST NOW realizing that?] White scoffed. [Amature.] 

{OOOOOH. Are you getting rusty? Can I take over if you're getting rusty? Pretty please?} 

[Obviously, I'll be taking over, moron.] 

{Wade! Wade! He called me a moron!} Yellow tattled. 

"Shut up." Wade murmured. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing. So, how'd we get here?" Wade eluded. 

{Spidey CARRIED us!!!!} 

[It was very demeaning.] White added, unhelpfully. 

{Was not! It was SO romantic!} 

[He only did it 'cause Cap didn't want to.] 

{But STILL.} Yellow sighed. 

"I, uh, carried you over." Spidey rubbed his neck. "It was no big deal." 

"Thank you." Wade insisted, offering a small smile. Spidey smiled back. 

A 'boom' from the door opening made them both jump. Stark marched into the room like he owned the place (which, to be fair he actually did). "Alright," he commanded, walking to the wall to Wade's right to make room for the rest of the Avengers entrances. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing at Wade. "Let's make this short and easy, I got things to be done." 

In the room now, was Banner, Widow, Stark, Cap, Barton, Wade, and Spidey. The last two looking decidedly uncomfortable at the others' arrivals. 

"Um, alright." Banner began, looking anxious. 

{OOOH, MORE ALLITERATION.} 

[Shut up, dimwit!] 

"It seems you have some malnutrition." 

"Oh. Okay. Is that all?" Wade accepted. 

"Okay?" Banner echoed, looking confused. 

"Yeah. It's all good, I understand. No problemo. We're done now, yeah?" Wade was already getting up. 

"Wait, no-" before Banner could continue, Widow was already there, pinning him down. 

He could easily figure out 50 different ways to get out of this, and that's only because he wasn't armed. But, he decided to wait. Keep quiet about his prowess so they can assume he's bad at his job. So he could bite 'em in the ass later. 

{Heh, bite 'em in the ass, Wadey!} 

[Shouldn't feel too different from when he usually kisses ass.]

{I'd bite Spidey's ass.} 

[I'd do more than that.] White replied darkly. 

"Woah, okay, hello, how was your day today?" Wade stuck his hands up, in response to Widow, in an innocent gesture. 

"You are not given permission to leave the premises, yet." she said, hard, unwavering eyes staring back at him.

"Uh."

[No.]

{Fuck you, kindly!}

Wade snorted.

A red eyebrow quirked up in an expectant, yet pissy, expression. "What's funny here?"

"It's just," a giggle escaped his lips. "You think you WANT me here." A full-on chuckle came this time. "I'd drive all of you nuts in a day!"

"Excuse me." interrupted Stark. "I will not have that nut job in my tower! He starved himself, for fuck's sake!"

"That's exactly why Fury wants him here." Widow explained. "He shows multiple signs of multiple mental health issues. Fury thinks he is able to get Deadpool into a more stable state of mind."

That's when Deadpool started cackling.

The heroes, besides Widow, who was still leaning over the bed pinning Wade's chest to the mattress, shuffled awkwardly, not knowing how to react. "You...You!" he flopped his head down on the bed. Widow stood, expression unreadable. "You...You want to SAVE me!" He burst into more belly-laughs. "It was a good joke, you got me for a sec, there! What got me was Mr. Iron Rod-Up-My-Ass saying he didn't want me here. Not that I think he likes me or nothin', just that I didn't think of him to be one to joke with me, y'know?" He sobered as he saw everyone's serious expressions. "What?"

"This is no joke." Wade straightened as he saw the Captain. "Director Fury would like you to stay here a while, at least until you start showing improvement.

[Oh HELL no!]

{Why not?}

[Why not!?]

{Yeah, dude. It's a fucking house. Full of superheroes. That WANT US THERE. What's there to argue about.}

[Oh gee, lemme think. How about the fact that they all hate our guts? Or how about the fact that they are going to want us to take off the mask and tell them our name. Oh, I KNOW, how about how they want to fucking FIX US.]

{So?}

[SO!?]

{We get to live with HEROES, Whitey! It'll be so fun!}

[Yellow, you absolute fucking dull-witted cunt-wipe. LISTEN TO MY WORDS. THE SOUNDS COMING FROM MY MOUTH. They want to fix US. As in us, THE BOXES! They want us gone! Away from Wade! You don't want that, do you?]

{I mean, I guess not.}

[THEN YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE HERE, DO YOU?]

"Deadpool?" Wade snapped from his stupor to look up at Spidey. "You good?"

"You..." He tentatively licked his lips. He turned to Widow. "You can get rid of them?"

[Ex-CUSE me?]

{What the what now?}

She narrowed her eyes. "Who?"

He wildly gestured at his head, all of a sudden frantic. "THEM! You can get rid of them, make them stop, go away! You can do that!" He leaned forward urgently, awaiting a response.

Her eyes widened minutely. "Yes," she answered. "If the sessions are-"

"Yes." 

[{NO!!!}]

Everyone looked at him. "Yes, I'll stay here, just please, get them out. Make them leave me alone. I can't anymore, I just can't." He stared her in the eye, unwavering despite his weak-sounding words. 

She nodded. "Okay, then." she turned heel and walked out the door. Soon after, the remaining Avengers followed suit. Banner gave a little wave before going. Cap nodded at him. Stark scoffed. It was fun, all around. 

The two red-clad heroes were left alone in the room. 

Spidey was the one to break the silence. "I'm gonna be, um, visiting, now and again. To check on you. Make sure you're okay, that you're being treated fine."

{He feels responsible for us.} Yellow informed cheerfully.

[He pities us.] White grumbled. 

{That too.}

"You don't have to do that, sugar-tits!" Wade grinned despite the bitter taste in his mouth. He feels like he signed a deal with the devil. "I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not." Wade winced. "Ah, jeez, sorry, sorry!"

"No, it's good, baby boy. Was asking for that one." He grinned again. "So, I'll see you around, huh?"

"Yeah. See you around."

And then, he was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I tried to make it longer this time. Let me know how I did! Also, in other news, the Summary will eventually be changed, as the plot has been changed. Hope you liked it!
> 
> Peace!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WELL LOOKIE HERE, IT'S ANOTHER CHAPPIE
> 
> (isn't that a movie, or some shit?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, let's address the elephant in the room. 
> 
> I did get a new haircut.
> 
> Nah, joking. Alright, so I was actively avoiding AO3 out of shame, right? And I was itching for a fix. So, I looked up some Spideypool edits on Youtube. I came across this ---> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jq9Gztj9IA0
> 
> (no clue if that made a link or not, if not, try copying and pasting in browser)
> 
> I got so inspired, I had to write. 
> 
> Now, there's something I haven't told you guys, and I should've. I thought if I didn't mention it, it wouldn't happen, but it obviously did.
> 
> I am the Queen of Procrastination.
> 
> Not even regularly. Like, I procrastinate things I ACTUALLY WANT TO DO. Like this, for instance. 
> 
> I was procrastinating so hard, I made a Fanfiction.com account, and started writing a one-shot for a completely different fandom. 
> 
> Out of all the stories I've tried to write (5), I've completed none (0).
> 
> I KNOW, right?!?
> 
> So, moral of le story:
> 
> DON'T. FUCKING. TRUST ME.
> 
> I'm going to try my damnedest to finish this book, even if it costs an arm and a leg. I SWEAR to you. I know I just told you to not trust me (solid advice), but at least trust me in that I will try. My damnedest. As stated above.
> 
> ON TO LE CHAPPIE.

The dream always started with a blonde woman, laughing in a field of white roses. Much like the roses, she was a vision of perfection. Her blue eyes held so much joy, that her face was long etched in laugh lines, even if she was obviously young. Her dress also matched the roses, a white sundress that made her look like an angel. Hell, she very well could've been. She smelled of rich honey so potent, it overpowered the entire field of roses. She looked so happy to see him, every time. She would always greet him, however, the words were long forgotten. It was a reflection, he could tell. She was too familiar, something about her just was so reminiscent. Some of the details were probably skew, such as the field of roses, or the dress. He must have forgotten, over time, or maybe so much damage to his brain just...erased it. Either way, the memories just weren't there. 

She would always cup his cheek, and where he would think scars would be, was just smooth skin. She would look at him, and she would say something else he couldn't quite hear. This time, he could see tears, and terror. Every time, he would be shocked, wanting to soothe her, but she always pushed him away before he got the chance, mouthing "Run!". He would stumble back, turning to run away. He would sprint a few feet, then wonder the reason for his turmoil. At this part, he would look over his shoulder, and instantly regret it, every single time. 

There would be a man, standing where she stood. He had rage painted over his face, and in his hands, a smashed bottle. Below him lay the woman, beautiful, even in death. Her blood painted the dress, the roses, and even the man. It stained everything, marking her pain onto the soil. Tears streamed their way down his face, sobs bubbling from his throat. The man, presumably his father, would turn to leer at him. Suddenly, he was started shrinking, and he stumbled on unfamiliar legs. He tripped and fell into a heap on the ground. His father loomed over him, eyes glittering with malice. 

"You're next, pussy!" He yelled, swinging the half of the bottle down onto his head.

Wade woke, panting and sweating, on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar white room. His heart raced a small bit before he realized where he was, and why. He soothed his breath and sat up. He had had a nightmare. Always the same one, with him.

{Wakey-wakey, eggs, and bakey!}

[Shut up, Yellow.]

{Aw, Whitey! So MEAN!}

[Fuck you.] He snarled back, grumpy from the night before.

He had spent the night cursing and scolding Wade about wanting to get rid of them. Yellow had been mumbling sadly in the background about not understanding why he didn't want him anymore. Things had gotten so escalated that by the end, Yellow had been sobbing loudly, and White had been roaring in his ear about how he would regret this, how he would be left all alone, all over again, just like before, and how he never learned his lesson. Then, Wade had risen from his position in the corner, hands over his ears and tears streaming down his cheek, and ran to the opposite wall, and slammed his head against it as hard as he could. 

He could only assume he had been knocked out from that. To prove his theory, he lifted a hand to his head, finding blood that had stained his mask, except without a source.

[It healed, moron.] White muttered.

"I know that, you douche." Wade rolled his eyes.

{Ugh, it's all cold and sticky,} whined Yellow. {Why can't it be all warm and fluid-y?}

[Because it's fucking old, you fucking retard,] jeered White, still grumbling. [And Wade doesn't have the balls to go out and fucking kill someone.]

Wade sighed, not responding. He didn't want to cause another beat-down. Besides, he was starving.

He walked out of the white room (minus the red blood stain on the wall), and wandered around the halls a bit. He soon found the kitchen, where Widow, the Captain, and the doctor were. The light conversation halted as he walked through the arched doorway.

"What goes on, my dudes?" he strode to a random cabinet, finding some poptarts. He grabbed one, and walked to the table, where the doctor and Widow sat. He pulled out a chair, and sat on it, putting his feet up on the table and balancing the chair on it's hind legs. He looked up, as if just now noticing the silence in the room. "Is something the matter?"

"Is that...blood? On your mask?" Banner asked, with a thoroughly confused expression. 

[No,] White exclaimed. [It's strawberry jelly!] 

"Huh?" Wade reached up, to where he knew the blood was. "Oh! How did that get there?"

"Camera feed shows a blood splatter on the wall of your room, sir." 

{AH! WHAT WAS THAT? THE VOICES! THEY'RE BACK!}

"What the hell?!" Wade scrambled out of his seat, poptart long forgotten. "Okay, three things. One, don't call me sir, everyone knows I'm anything, but that. Two, why the hell is there a disembodied voice talking to me? I REALLY don't need another. Three, why the FUCK are there cameras in my room?"

"My apologies," said the disembodied voice. "I am J.A.R.V.I.S., an A.I. that Mr. Stark created. I run the tower. The cameras in your room are for security purposes, such as if someone broke into your room, I would know, and could alert the others. If I may ask, if you wouldn't like me to address you as 'sir', what would you like?"

"My Dope-Ass Fresh Prince." Wade replied immediately. 

{YESSSSSS.} Yellow raved.

[I'm surrounded by morons.] White sighed.

"You don't have to do that, Jarvis." Captian said right after, glaring slightly at Wade.

"It's quite alright, Captain, if My Dope-Ass Fresh Prince wishes me to address him as such, I will."

The Captain shook his head as Wade cackled in the background. Banner looked slightly amused. Widow had no reaction. 

After Wade had calmed down, Banner cleared his throat. "You know, I could look at that for you." He gestured to the merc's head. 

"Ah, no," Wade adamantly shook his head, quickly standing. "I'm good, doc, got that advanced healing factor, y'know? You're a doctor, you know how it is. With all the healing, and the...healing. Yeah no, it's all good, no need to worry yourself with me. Even if I die, just come right back, kickin' and screamin'. Yup, got the best one I've ever seen, only one who gets close is good ole' Wolvie, but mine's better. Yup, sure is. You know-."

"You're going to have to show your face eventually." Widow commented, not looking up from her book she was calmly reading. Wade tried to see what it was, but it was in Russian, and it was too early for Russian right now. Widow continued, "You have a session later today. Be there at 9:00. Ask Jarvis for directions." She looked up at him, eyes peering through hi soul. "Don't be late." From there, she picked up her book, and whisked out the door.

It was silent for a second. "Well," Wade clapped his hands, and rubbed them together. "I'm off to find something to do until 9:00!"

{We're totally going to dismantle those cameras now, right?}

[Yellow, of COURSE we are,] White explained. [who do you think we're holed up with?]

{A paranoid murderer who doesn't care for his own saftey?}

White giggled. [Exactly!]


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool goes to see his counselor and is surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So, this is so soon after the last update, because I wanted to make it up to you guys! 
> 
> Also, to thank you. I went like, a month without updating, and you guys were still so accepting!
> 
> So much love for you all, seriously! <3
> 
> Also, did you notice? I did a summary thing-magiger. Should I do more stuff like it, or should I just go back to what I've been doing? Let me know down in the comments!
> 
> Anyway, off we go!

Wade was making his way down to the room Jarvis told him to go to. 

[Psh. That was obvious.] White mumbled.

"Rude. What else is there to say? Wait, are you still butt-hurt about that thing that happened?" Wade commented, rolling his eyes.

[IT HAPPENED YESTERDAY!]

{But yesterday was, like, two chapters ago!}

"Gotta get with the times, old man!" Wade snickered.

[FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT A FUCKING OLD MAN!]

They came across a door, and Wade stopped cold. It was just a regular old door, no different than the multitude of other doors that resided in the halls. However, something about it really made Wade feel...weird. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. It was like he would be signing some sort of contract by walking through that door.

[Maybe it's a death note.]

{What, like that one anime we could never get into?}

[Sure, that works.]

The door still remained, silently waiting for his decision. It was judging him, he could tell. Stupid door.

[I don't think insulting the door will help.] White mused, the smug bastard.

Wade sighed, and gripped the door knob. He couldn't see his knuckles, due to his gloves, but they were probably white, from strain.

{Do you think if we gripped hard enough, our knuckles would burst?}

[Well, there's only one way to find out,] White chuckled darkly. [How about it, Wade? Feel like showing the Avengers just how much of a freak you are?]

Yellow snickered. {Can't even open a door!}

[Not only that, but he called it names! Aw, is the big, mean door talking to you too?]

"Fuck you." Wade snarled, staring intensely at the doorknob.

[Aw, it is, isn't it? Well, you give that door a good what for, and it won't bother you anymore!] White taunted. Wade trembled with rage, sick of them. Sick of life, of calling doors names. He was sick of himself, even. [Just can't make yourself do it can you?] White scoffed. [Freak.]

{Ohh, our knuckles feel so TENSE!} Yellow giggled. {Do you think they'll explode, soon?}

"My," Wade remembered, voice so hushed, he could barely hear himself.

[What?]

"My!" he shouted, looking up in realization. "You have no control over me. I only CHOOSE to follow your lead. I don't have to do what you say! Not if I don't want to, at least! So, no, not 'our' knuckles. They're mine. My body is MINE!" 

He burst through the door, heart fluttering with excitement.In fact, he was so excited, he didn't realize who sat in front of him at first. 

"...Widow?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short, guys, it was a bit of a filler, but I at least got it out! Now, when I update next week, you know it won't be a filler! Yay!
> 
> There was a bit of a cliffhanger, though. A small one. Like, a really small cliff.
> 
> I could see how some people might get confused about the ending, though, so I'll explain it here. The room Wade entered will be his counseling room. IE: the room he gets his counseling at. That might not have been clear. Sorry. Anyway, that being said, seeing Natasha in there might leave one to think they would be getting their counseling from Natasha. Ergo, the surprise.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Love you! <3
> 
> (PS: Is this heart thing becoming, like, a thing? Like a signature? I'm not sure I want that to happen or not...)
> 
> (PPS: You guys should check out this fic called Misericordia, it's a Spideypool story. It's about how Peter was put into all these fairytale universes by a sorceress, and to leave, he has to give every one up. It's super cool. It's only in it's first chapter, and I already have it on #2 on my mental list of favorite fics!)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter can't stop thinking about Deadpool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again! 
> 
> How are all of you guys? I hope your weekend is going good, so far! I'm on spring break this week, and it's pretty awesome. I am bingeing Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, and Iron Fist. (TOTALLY not because I postponed watching them, and now a teaser for Defenders has come out! What are you talking about?) Now, I'm ignoring all of my other duties (bar writing), and now my Youtube subscriptions box will be flooded by the time I get back :/. I also have yet to watch the second season of AoT, I have yet to continue my reading of Spider-Man and Deadpool, and I really want to read the manga for Tokyo Ghoul, but I'm only on the third release. 
> 
> Ugh.
> 
> It's cool, though, I thoroughly enjoy have so many things to do in my spare time. It's pretty refreshing!
> 
> Also, I wanted to say something, referring to the comments. I'm really sorry if I don't respond to your comment :(. I always got really disappointed if an author has not been to responding to some comments, but I never really knew why. The reason so many people don't respond to comments after a while is because we don't get notified. The emails just don't arrive after a while. It sucks because then I feel bad because I don't know when I'll respond, and then it looks like I stopped caring or something, but I don't, I promise! :) I love you all, and I really wish I could respond, but then I'd have to check the comments section on all my chapters every day, manually, which would be time wasted for when I could be doing more productive things. Like making more chapters for all you lovely people!
> 
> Or bingeing Netflix, but still.
> 
> (HOW THE HELL DO YOU SPELL BINGEING???????)
> 
> Anyways, I love you all. Off we go! (Also, should I add Gwen Stacy to the characters list? It's not canon for her to be alive, but I really like BAMF Gwen... Thoughts?)
> 
> <3

Peter crawled in through his window and promptly collapsed on the floor.

"Ughhhh." Peter announced to his empty apartment.

He wasn't hurt or anything. Well, besides the occasional bump or scratch, but those just came with the job. His job, being his Spider-Man duties, not the Stark Industries internship he had going. Or being the college student, either. 

The Spider-Man thing was getting pretty crazy right now, though. Given, it was always him. Always Peter who had to deal with the bull. I mean, come on. Deadpool?! Of all the God-damned people, it had to be the most annoying. And the funniest. And the best built. 

Fuck, he was so screwed. 

Peter blushed to the empty apartment and covered his face as he thought of the implications. "UGHHHHHHHHHH." he announced harder.

He may, or may not, have a developing crush.

He mentally scoffed. Developing. Say that to the multitude of cold showers he's needed over the past few months. Or don't. He still had a toe in over the water of denial.

He got up with a groan, mulling over the day's events. He traipsed over to his bedroom, decidedly NOT thinking about how tender Deadpool was with Peter's wounds when he dressed them, or how panicked he was when he woke up in that white room, or how much fun he had, destroying those robots, back in the city. Deadpool was such a strange person. He was like some sort of walking, talking contradiction. It was really weird, in a sort of charming way. Sometimes, he wondered, though. What would he be like, without his mask? Peter was certainly different with and without his mask, so what could Deadpool be like? Also wasn't he supposed to NOT be thinking about Deadpool?

He sighed, and rubbed his head in the middle of changing his pants. He needs a hobby or something. He finished up changing, and moped out of his bedroom and over to the fridge. He selected a pizza slice he had been saving, and ate it just like that, not wanting to walk the two feet to the microwave and wait two minutes. It actually wasn't half bad, and walked over to finish it on the couch. He switched on the TV, looking for something to veg out on. He found some news program, and allowed his mind to wander over the last week's events. Of course, his thoughts went over to Deadpool again, because his brain hates him. You know what? Fuck it. Let's think about Deadpool.

He thought about his eyes, and what color would suit them best. His laugh, how it rolled out of him in rare moments where Peter would say something funny without thinking. His jaw, it's strength, and how it was practically the only thing Peter knew about his face. How he would make Peter blush and get angry at him at the same time for all of his stupid nicknames. His muscles, and how the suit so obnoxiously did nothing to hide them. How he just wanted to grab him by his stupidly broad shoulders and just-

Annnnnnd there's little Peter. Honestly, though, Peter only provoked this by thinking about him in the first place. What surprised him though, is how quickly it had happened. He was already completely hard, and it had only been a couple of thoughts about the masked mercenary. 

He ran his hand over his crotch, imagining his hand to be larger, and heavier. Being impatient, he put his hand in his pants, and started groping more firmly. He thought about his large smile, how you could see it even through the leather of his mask. How, even now, Peter couldn't stop thinking about him, and how Peter's dick would feel against his. He started pumping his hard-on quickly, wishing nothing more than for it to be in that exact situation. He bit his lip and groaned at the thought of Deadpool's voice in his ear, calling him baby boy as he grabbed his cock from behind. He grunted with the effort of his hand flying over his dick, wanting nothing but to feel that utter bliss that he would feel at the end of this. 

He steered his thoughts towards Deadpool once again, thinking about how experienced those hands would be after so many years of handling weapons. He wondered if he had calluses, too. At that thought, he had to bite back a moan, for fear of any neighbors hearing through paper walls. His hand went impossibly faster; he was so close. He needed a final push. He pushed another, hand down his pants. He tried to avoid stimulating his dick too much, to make sure it didn't end too early. He then started gathering precome on his finger. Finally, he quickly circled his hand around to his backside, and thrust the finger inside of him. He couldn't hold back the loud, guttural moan this time, as cum spurt over his newly washed pajamas. 

He breathed hard, cock still in hand, and finger still in his ass. He forlornly looked at the mess that was made of his favorite PJs. He sighed. 

Time for another shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. Okay. That...happened. I honestly wasn't expecting that to happen this chapter. Or, actually, at all. I was thinking they were gonna go straight to sexy times after a few chapters, masturbation be damned. But, lo and behold, here it is.
> 
> Not that I'm complaining. 
> 
> BAIIIII! 
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. Also let me know of any errors or plotholes you come across now or in the future, please!
> 
> Tumblr: TurtleFangirl


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